


The Sound of Music

by hamish_adler_holmes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU kind of, Cause Im in America, Fluff, M/M, Music Festival, Theyre in America
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 13:16:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2069658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamish_adler_holmes/pseuds/hamish_adler_holmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock stumbles into John Watson's tent at a music festival</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sound of Music

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a short little ficlet based off something I saw on Twitter. Let me know what you think in the comments x

Bright lights, music, bodies twirling and moving in time to the beat.  The scent of sweat and beer and drugs, drumbeats and guitar riffs blasting so loud it was impossible to speak.  

John Watson sighed, rubbing a hand across his face.  The music festival was amazing, sure, but after a day of drinking, his head was pounding, and the bass blaring through the speakers was doing nothing to help.  He moved far away from the stage to where he had pitched a tent, and crawled inside, the tent blissfully blocking out some of the sound.  He lay on his back, his eyes closed.  The festival was more his friends idea, and he had skived in favor of a few nights in another city with his girlfriend.  Not that John blamed him.

Just as he was falling asleep, a scuffle from outside had him jerking awake.  Someone was fumbling with the zipper of the tent.  John grabbed his flashlight and gripped it like a baton, ready to smash the skull of the intruder.  As the zip opened, he drew his hand back over his head and almost let it fly down on the stranger before he saw what was happening.  It was a man about his age but about half a foot taller, with curly hair and long limbs, and he was high as a kite.  He giggled to himself as he sealed the tent back up then turned and froze when he saw John, bleary eyed with sleep and gripping a large flashlight.  He raised an eyebrow.

“Are you going to hit me?”

John snorted.  “Well, this is my tent, so if you don’t explain yourself…”

The man looked around and then he seemed to realize what was happening.  He broke into giggles, cupping a hand over his mouth like a child.  John sighed, not in the mood for this.

“Right, out with you.”

The man moaned and covered his entire face now with his hands.  “No, don’t make me go back out there.  Too loud.”  He partially uncovered one eye and looked at John, grinning.  “Really, can I stay?  I have no idea where my tent is.”  He continued to giggle, and John realized there was no way the man was leaving.  

“Fine, stay.  But I want to sleep and if you keep me awake with your damn giggling I am going to bash your head in with the flashlight without a second thought.  You got me?”

The man tried to make his face as serious as possible as he nodded, but his composure broke as a giggle slipped through.  John sighed and crawled onto his sleeping bag, shoving his head under the pillow.  This was going to be a long night.

  --

John woke with his headache gone and with someone’s arms wrapped around his waist.  He turned to see who it was and hissed as he met gray-blue eyes.  He jerked away, flushing a deep red.  

“Uh,” he cleared his throat.  “Good morning.”

The stranger sat up and stretched, yawning and making one of the most obscene noises John had ever heard.  The sound made him half hard, and he mentally scolded himself.  “Who are you?”

The man cocked his head to one side, studying John.  “The names Sherlock Holmes.”

John smiled a bit and held out one hand.  “Nice to meet you, Sherlock.  I’m John Watson.”

Sherlock hesitated a moment before taking the offered hand.  His warm one dwarfed John’s, causing the latter to gulp and pull his hand back.

They were silent for a moment, each staring at the other silently.

“So...were you high last night?”

Sherlock nodded, picking at his jeans and not making eye contact.  “It was a mistake.  Not doing that again.”  He chuckled and looked up at John.  “Sorry about...you know.”

“Breaking into my tent?”

He smiled.  “Yeah, that.  My mistake.”

John was about to say something, but he was interrupted by the sound of Sherlock’s stomach rumbling.  He smiled while the other man blushed and raised an eyebrow.  “Hungry?”

Sherlock poked his tongue out but nodded.  They sat in silence for a moment before John cleared his throat and asked, “Want to go find some breakfast?”  Sherlock nodded again and led the way out of the tent, stretching and groaning again as he stood.  How he had managed to fold his long frame into the tent was a mystery to John.  He was about six feet tall, thin, and was wearing a tight Muse shirt and dark skinny jeans.  He had on beaten up black Converse that had dirt stains and frayed laces.  He smiled and John realized he had been staring, so he broke his gaze away and led the way to the concessions.

They were quiet, and after a moment John tried to start conversation.  “So, you here with anyone?”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow but shook his head.  “You?”

“I was meant to come here with a friend, but he went off with his girlfriend.  She lives in another city than we do, so I didn’t give him shit about it.”  They shuffled forward in line a bit and Sherlock bit his lower lip.

More silene and this time it was Sherlock who broke it.  “You didn’t bring your girlfriend?”

John’s head whipped up and he met Sherlock’s eyes.  He shook his head, clearing his throat.  “I haven’t got one.”

For a moment he could have sworn he saw smile flicker across Sherlock’s lips, but before he could ask it was there turn to order.  They got coffee and muffins and made their way back to John’s tent.  “You live around here?” John asks, blowing on his coffee.

Sherlock shakes his head.  “No, I’m from Arlington, in Virginia.”  John  stopped in his tracks and Sherlock continued on for a moment before he noticed, and he glanced back at John with a questioning look.  “What?”

“You’re joking.  I live in Arlington!”

Sherlock laughed out loud, nearly spilling hot coffee on his hand.  John laughed and shook his head, moving to stand beside Sherlock, who was still giggling to himself.  “That’s completely insane.”  They started off again and John realized they were going back to his tent.  “Where’s your tent?” he asked, and Sherlock’s face fell.

“On the other side of the grounds.  If you want me to…” he gestured over his shoulder but John shook his head quickly.

“God, no, that was rude.  You’re welcome to come back, I was just asking.”  They smiled at each other as they reached the tent, and John huffed as he sat down.  He took the lid off his coffee and sipped it gently, burning his tongue in the process.  Sherlock sat gracefully beside him and sipped his as well, and the two men once again fell into a comfortable silence.  They watched the people wandering around the grounds, many wearing flower crowns and crop tops.  John noticed that a few women would wink at Sherlock, and some were even so bold as to slide down a strap of their tank top and expose part of their bra.  Sherlock paid them no attention, and John felt a strange warmth in his chest.

They stayed there for the whole day, neither wanting to move.  They made comments about the people walking past, the bands playing, or just talked about things in general.  Sherlock talked about his brother, who was a police officer, and John talked about his sister who owned a bakery.  He explained that was why he knew how to bake, and he talked about his favorite types of pastries (most of which involved jam).  Sherlock talked about how when he was younger, he wanted to be a pirate, and now he wanted to be a bee keeper.  He talked for ages about different types of bees and their roles in the hive, blushing when he realized how long he had been talking.

He looked to Sherlock and liked what he saw.  The way his hair curled, his cheekbones, the color of his eyes.   How was he already getting feelings for this man, after just a few hours of knowing him?  And most of those hours spent together were while they were asleep or John under the impression that the other man was insane.  He turned quickly when Sherlock turned to meet his eyes, and he smiled and busied himself with eating his muffin.  After a moment of silent consideration, Sherlock slid closer.  When John didn't stop him, he slid even closer so their shoulders were pressed together, their hands grazing together as they reached for their drinks.  After a moment, John relaxed against Sherlock and leaned into him a bit, drawing a smile from the taller man.  

Music drifted up towards them, and John recognized it immediately.  “Is this Bridges?  By Broods?  I love this song.”  He closed his eyes and hummed along, losing himself in the song.  He sang softly, swaying a bit, and Sherlock couldn't stop staring.  He leaned in, his lips inches from John’s.

John’s eyes fluttered open and when he saw how close Sherlock was, he gasped but didn't move back.  He bit his lip and looked into Sherlock’s eyes, and when he saw no hesitation he leaned in and closed the gap.  The kiss was sweet and short and tasted of too sweet coffee, but John smiled when he pulled away.  Sherlock licked his lower lip, keeping his eyes focused on John.

“Okay?” Sherlock asked, leaning against John.

“God, yes.”  John leaned his head against Sherlock’s shoulder, hesitantly twisting their hands together.  Sherlock chuckled and lifted their joined hands, kissing John’ knuckles gently.  

They sat there for hours, listening to the music.  Bass booming, drums banging loudly and guitar riffs seeming to rip the clouds apart, but the only beat John cared about was Sherlock’s heart against his ear as he leaned against the other man’s chest.  Sherlock rubbed a hand through John’s hair and sang along to all the songs, and John felt like he would never be as happy as he was just now.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> My [Twitter](https://twitter.com/johnxlock)
> 
> My [Tumblr](http://iamsherlockedwatson.tumblr.com/)


End file.
